


A Toast to Them, and to Us

by Aki (Akiko_Natsuko)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Promises, Self-Doubt, Toasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Aki
Summary: “And a toast to us,” Phichit replied, lifting his glass and lightly tapping it against Chris’ as he added with a grin. “Next year’s winners.”Next year everything will be different.It’s a promise.





	A Toast to Them, and to Us

Fifth place.

    He couldn’t say that he hadn’t been expecting the result, at least not privately, not after it had taken him so long to warm up to the Grand Prix this year after learning that Victor wasn’t going to be competing this year. It had surprised him to realise just how much of his motivation had come to rely on that rivalry, how accustomed he had become to seeing Victor ahead of him. It had been an eye-opening series from the start, as without Victor’s looming presence he had started to notice the other skaters beyond mere competitors. Yuuri, he had known for a while but the version he’d faced in the ice this time was unlike the man he’d thought he’d known, and there had been other surprises, Yuri who it seemed was already aiming for Victor’s spot. Phichit who had approached every stage, every skate with an enthusiasm and love for the ice that it was impossible to ignore, and he had found himself responding, pushing himself further than he had intended at the start, finding his desire for that place on the podium once more.

   He’d gone into the final with high hopes, longing for that spot on the podium, that lofty perch that had been denied him for so long, clinging to his desire even when Yuuri had so easily beaten his personal best. At that point, he’d realised that even now his goal wasn’t easily obtained, but still, he had fought for it, pushing himself, changing his program to chase the others. Yet, at the same time he had accepted that even if he couldn’t have that spot on the podium, the medal that they all dreamed for, he had decided to enjoy the final to his utmost.

 To make it into something special.

    Although he still wasn’t sure whether that desire had come from a hope that it would be enough of a siren song to call his rival back to the ice, or an admission of the invisible, ever-present deadline that was approaching. How many more finals would he be able to see? How many more times would he be able to dance on the ice?

As it turned out, there would be at least one more chance…

    He had heard the whispers when had returned to watch the last of the competition after a brief rest, and as soon as he had seen the media clamouring to get to Victor, he had known that his rival was returning the ice at least one more time. Which meant that he had at least one more chance, one more opportunity to dance on the ice and steal that spot on the podium from the Russian skater. Somehow, the excitement from that news didn’t combat the disappointment he had felt at seeing his position on the scoreboard, and he sighed, sipping at his champagne before turning his attention back to the banquet.

   The party was only just starting, the skaters and everyone else involved with the Grand Prix still trickling in, but it was as magnificent as it had been during previous, the large hotel room that had been reserved for the event was decorated to the nines, and for a moment he lost himself in admiring the decorations. The graceful strings of lights strung from the ceiling giving the entire room a soft golden glow,  reminding him of the previous night when they had all been laughing and chatting. When they’d still had everything to fight for, and he grimaced, taking another sip of his drink before taking in the rest of the room, gaze lingering on the dancefloor that had been set up in the far corner of the room, amused to note there was no convenient pole this year. Had they been warned?

    Still, he somehow doubted that they would be getting the same entertainment they’d had last year, his gaze sweeping the room and settling on where Yuuri had just entered with Victor close on his heels. There was no sign of the shy, awkward man who had hidden in a corner and drunk himself into a state where he had lost all inhibitions, and from the way, Victor mirrored each step, he doubted that Yuuri would be given a chance to get like that. It was a shame, he mused, fingers tapping against the stem of his champagne flute, he could use some mischief to distract himself from his disappointment and regret which seemed to have jumped higher at the sight of his rival. Perhaps the party wasn’t such a good idea tonight, not when his thoughts were…

“Are you hiding?” The sudden voice had him jumping, relieved that he had already downed most of his drunk as barely managed to stop himself from dropping it, turning wide eyes towards his new companion, finding himself being greeted with a warm grin and bright eyes.

Phichit…

    The Thai skater’s gaze rove over the room, taking everything in with an innocent fascination that amused and intrigued Christophe in equal measure. Had he looked like the first time he had been here? He couldn’t remember, and he found himself following Phichit’s gaze and trying to take everything in again and to his surprise as he listened to the younger man oohing and aahing over everything, it did seem to look different. Fresher perhaps, or maybe it was just that with the distraction provided by his companion, the weight of his disappointment seemed to have eased just enough for him to start relaxing and trying to enjoy himself. It took him a moment to realise that Phichit had finished his perusal of the room and was now watching him intently, arching an eyebrow at him when Chris blinked at him in confusion.  “So?”

    It took him a few seconds to realise that he had never answered Phichit’s question and he coloured slightly, before shaking his head.  “No,” his fingers tightened around his glass, hoping that Phichit wouldn’t hear the hesitation in his voice. He hadn’t been hiding, well, not really, just lost in his thoughts, although he was just as reluctant to admit that as it would lead to admitting where his thoughts had taken him. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his thoughts, after all, he didn’t know a single skater who hadn’t experienced disappointment of some kind or questioned their place in the sport, instead his hesitation stemmed from the fact that he knew that Phichit had to be just as disappointed after finishing last in the series. He didn’t want to say anything that would dim Phichit’s grin, and so he shrugged, relaxing against the wall as he played it off. “I was merely watching, and waiting for everyone to arrive. Why?”

“I expected to find you on the dancefloor after seeing those photos,” Phichit teased, and Chris couldn’t stop himself from grinning, remembering how excited Phichit had been when they’d looked through the pictures and videos from last year. He’d even sent a load of them to him, having caught the glimmer of longing in dark eyes, realising that Phichit might know some of them, but it was his first time at this stage, and that even someone like him could feel like he was on the outside at times. He wasn’t sure if it had helped, but Phichit certainly looked at ease, although it was hard to imagine him looking out of place with his personality, and the glint in his eyes this time was pure mischief. “Are you going to disappoint me?”

“Depends,” there was no way he couldn’t respond to that teasing, feeling himself relaxing further as he leant forward, grasping Phichit’s hand and lifting it to his lips, pressing a playful kiss to it. “Will you be joining me?” He was used to most people being flustered with his open flirting, only a few like Victor usually able to match him and he had half-expected Phichit to fall into the first category, and he was caught by surprise when lithe fingers curled around his hand, stopping him from escaping.

“Only if I get to see your Eros,” Phichit replied, a hint of colour sitting high on his cheeks and Chris was stunned to feel himself blushing too, although it didn’t stop the delighted grin that crept across his lips.

“I’m sure that could be arranged with enough champagne.”

     Somehow, he was unsurprised to find himself being dragged towards the tables by an over-enthusiastic Phichit, following without complaint, not missing the fact that their fingers were still entangled. He was almost disappointed when they reached the table and the warmth around his hand disappeared, Phichit pausing to wave across at Yuuri before retrieving glasses of champagne for the two of them, smiling as he handed the glass to Chris who accepted it with a sudden, wistful smile.

“Aren’t you disappointed?” He wanted to curse, the question slipping out before he could stop it and they both froze, Chris suddenly unable to look at Phichit, fingers tightening around the glass to the point where he was surprised that it hadn’t shattered. While he could feel Phichit’s gaze boring into him, and he had a feeling that if he looked up, the smile would be gone.

“I am,” Phichit admitted after a moment, but he didn’t sound as sad or weary as Chris had expected and when he finally risked glancing up it was to find Phichit still watching him with an oddly thoughtful expression on his face.

“Then…”

“But just being here,” Phichit gestured at the room at large, but the smile that had crept back onto his face was aimed solely at Chris who swallowed thickly, catching the implication behind the smile and the glance that followed before Phichit looked away, voice soft as he continued. “Making it to the final, skating in front of all those people and to music that I’ve always dreamed of skating too. It’s more than enough, for now.” Chris hadn’t missed the ‘for now’, and he caught the determination in the dark eyes when Phichit looked at him again, continuing in a firmer voice. “I’m still learning at the moment, but…    Next year will be different.”

_Next year will be different._

    There had been no missing the steel behind those five words, and for a moment Christophe was transported back to the first time he had skated against Victor, standing in second place and staring at the man who would become his rival.

_“Next time I am going to beat you!” There had been a hint of anger, stemming from his disappointment and the fact that while Victor had been smiling, it hadn’t seemed like he was truly happy with his win. But there had also been determination, because in his naivety he had thought that he could win, even though it had been his first time. He had won every one of his previous competitions, and while it had been a shock to come against someone who could easily overtake him, it was also thrilling. And as he stood there, hands balled at his side, waiting to be laughed at or brushed off, he had never meant anything as much as he had meant those heated, desperate words._

    He smiled at the memory. He hadn’t made true on those angry words, but the anger was long gone and what had started off in anger and envy had descended into an enjoyable rivalry, and he found his gaze wandering across to Victor who was laughing at Yurio and leaning Yuuri, looking more alive and determined than he had for a long time. _Next year will be different…_

“Yes, it will,” he murmured. He wasn’t naïve anymore, and he knew that there was every chance that one more year might be all he would have left.

It would be enough.

    With Victor coming back to the ice, and new skaters rising to challenge them, it would be a fight. The path to the podium would be even harder than it had been this year, as people grew and adapted and changed. He couldn’t wait. It had been a long time since he had felt this excited about an upcoming season, his grip easing on the glass he turned to look at Phichit who had returned to watching him with a knowing expression. His grin this time was left flirtatious and more grateful, knowing that it had been Phichit’s unusual viewpoint that had opened his eyes and his determined words that had reminded him of how he had used to be, and he slowly lifted his glass. “A toast to this year’s winners.”  

“And a toast to us,” Phichit replied, lifting his glass and lightly tapping it against Chris’ as he added with a grin. “Next year’s winners.”

_Next year everything will be different._

_It’s a promise._


End file.
